A FEAR Halloween
by M10m gas mask soldier
Summary: October 31st has arrived and the Spartans have their sights set on a nearby town. However, the operation's success is soon in jeopardy as a complication arises. On the night that blurs the line between the normal world and the supernatural, Becket and Alma are forced to blur the line between their professional and personal lives. Can they save their family's Halloween?


Title: A FEAR Halloween

Origin: The Broken Soldier

Type: Family/humor

POV: Michael Becket

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><p>A.N.: Hey everyone!<p>

As I mentioned before, here is my Halloween Special.

I realize that it is late to be posting this but I wanted to give a little insight into how the future for my characters might be, I intend for it to be as open ended as possible, and also what Becket and Alma do with their time following the main story.

This is set after A FEAR Easter.

Again, I do not intend for this to be heavy though it is darker than my previous short stories.

I hope everyone had a pleasant Halloween!

Read and review if you want.

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><p><span>Legal Disclaimer:<span> F.E.A.R. 2 Project Origin and all related characters and elements are trademarks of Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. I claim no ownership of anything nor do I plan to profit from posting this.

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><p>The thunderous roar of <em>Christine<em>'s V8 Golden Commando engine filled the air as we traveled towards our target. The collage of orange, yellow, and brown leaves swirled around the pristine exterior of the devilish American muscle car as she egged me on to drive faster and faster. The area before us was bathed in the bright blue light of her possessed headlamps as she purred in delight.

Behind us, the convoy of Replica Armored Personnel Carriers, numbering five in total, dominated the roadway as their heavy frames struggled to keep pace with the Plymouth Fury. At the front of the convoy was the heavily modified Dark Signal APC. Unlike the relatively stock Replica APCs, Morales's baby was a mechanical marvel. Having undergone near continuous upgrades since first being deployed around nine years prior, the already formidable behemoth was now all but invincible on the battlefield.

The target area was a seemingly innocent suburb. Intelligence indicated that both this suburb and its host town were the nearest source of both our primary and secondary objective. The Strike Force, codenamed Vanguard, consisted of three teams. Team One was comprised of Dark Signal and the F.E.A.R. Team. Team Two was comprised of Wolf Pack and the Replica Recon Units of Echo Team. Team Three was comprised of the new Bravo Team, an unpopular unit name among the Replica who considered the designation to be cursed.

As we neared the target area, a large sign came into view to the right of the road. The large wooden frame sign announced the name of the town. As we passed it, I spoke into my com link, "All units, Operation Trick or Treat is officially underway. Proceed with assignments." They acknowledged me with their respective responses. As we neared the city limits, Bravo Team's APC broke off from the convoy. They were assigned to locate the secondary objectives and take them into protective custody.

A slight stirring in the back row of seats drew my attention. Amara yawned as she was roused from her nap by Alpha 1. She smiled with an adorable goofy expression as she pressed herself up against the nearest window and peered out at our surroundings. The sun had just gone down by the time that we arrived at our destination, codenamed King of Clubs. I barely noticed the shocked expressions of the locals as I entered the dead end street. The decorated middle-class houses were brightly lit and unique with their festive displays. Upon reaching the circular turnaround, I followed the edge of the road until the entire convoy was effectively occupying the circle. I brought the Fury to a halt and parked. Looking at my beautiful companion, who was sitting in the seat next to me, and then at my daughter, I asked, "Okay, you ready?"

They both smiled as they nodded in confirmation. I smiled slightly at their enthusiasm before I said, "Alright, let's go."

We exited _Christine_. The crisp air of the October night hit me, causing me to inhale deeper than normal with the first breath that I took. Behind me, the sound of metal colliding against asphalt could be heard as our soldiers exited their APCs. The disguised voices of the Replica Snipers of Echo Team could be heard as Echo Leader ordered his men, "Move! Move! Move! Echo 2, set up a command hub! Echo 3 and 4, set up a firing position to cover sectors Vector-13 and Whiskey-13! Echo 5 and 6, recon sector Gulf-10!" I watched the Replica Snipers as they moved with near perfect coordination with a sense of pride. Of course, Wolf Pack moved in total silence but with clockwork-like coordination that was extremely disciplined even by Replica standards.

Despite Alma's insistence, we remained in our standard attire. Personally, I believed that our standard attire qualified as Halloween costumes anyway. When I had jokingly asked if she was going as "herself", my companion had winked at me. I caught myself staring at her as she straightened our daughter's witch outfit. Her attire consisted of a fairytale style hooded robe that was a beautiful dark red color. Hand-stitched black lace lined the edges of her robe. A glossy black corset hugged her midsection in a way that drew attention to the shapely figure of her healthy adult form.

Meanwhile, Amara's attire consisted of a typical black pointed witch's hat, a very short black cape, a little white corset, a brown skirt, and matching black shoes. Alma felt me staring at her and glanced back at me. Her face was almost completely shrouded in darkness even with our well lit surroundings. Only a small, triangular section of her lower chin was visible. However, all of this only increased the hypnotic quality of her clearly visible glowing orange eyes.

"_Dirty little boy…_"

I mentally cringed before I replied, "_I'm sorry…I can't help it…you're so beautiful._"

Her eyes softened briefly as she said, "_Come now little Michael…you're the only one who gets to see me the way you do. Everyone else only gets sees me like this...clothed._"

I smiled slightly before I asked, "_So, when do I get my treat?_"

She giggled before she remarked, "_Oh, well, look at you…so bold…later tonight my dirty little boy._"

My attention was drawn to Amara as she jumped up and down in order to get me to notice her. I smiled down at her where she was at my feet. I bent down and gently grasped both of her shoulders as I asked, "You ready?" She nodded excitedly as her steel grey eyes were ablaze with both joy and innocence. I smiled and rubbed both sides of her shoulders for a moment as I felt a sudden, intense urge to keep her close to me forever.

She giggled before she assured me, "Daddy, it's okay. I'll be fine. You trust me right?"

I replied, "Of course I do Little One." I released her and stood. My daughter gave me one last look before she made her way towards a group of costumed children. As I watched her easily charm the other children into letting her join them, I was thankful that our daughter did not seem to have any trouble with making friends. However, I cringed as a chorus of amazed gasps came from the young boys in the group as they gazed upon Amara with wonder, much to the jealously of the girls that were present.

"Oh, don't worry, my love…they're harmless."

Without looking at the robed goddess standing inches beside me on my left, I replied, "She definitely takes after you. I don't think that there is a person alive that she can't charm."

I felt Alma smirk as her eyes burned with power when she remarked with a prideful tone, "Yes…she is certainly a Wade. At the rate that her powers are growing, I definitely believe that she will surpass even me."

From where he was to my right, Alpha 1 commented with his modified voice, "As grateful as I am that she was able to bring me back to life that one time, I am not convinced that this is such a great thing."

Alma asked with a genuinely curious tone, "How so, my son?"

My brother explained, "Experience has shown that increased power must come at a cost of mental fragility. While I have faith in Amara, I recommend caution."

I laughed before I said, "You're just scared because she is infatuated with you. By the way, a word of advice, it hurts less if you don't fight her…trust me."

Before he could reply, Delta 1 approached me. His Patten Assault Rifle was holstered across his back by its sling. The extremely weathered appearance of his Replica Elite armor, in some spots with gouges and scorch marks, was admittedly intimidating but was actually misleading in terms of the passive, friendly personality of the hardened squad leader beneath it. He halted before me and then saluted in a smooth, firm motion. I returned it in a similar fashion. After he dropped his right arm, he requested, "Permission to speak freely, sir."

Somewhat concerned, I replied, "Granted."

My concern proved unwarranted seconds later when he said with his disguised voice, "I find myself unable to fully grasp the concept of this…Halloween, sir. It's a holiday in which grown adults and their children dress up as fictional and nonfictional characters, go door to door and beg for treats from complete strangers, carve patterns vaguely resembling scary faces into vegetables, as well as adorn their own domiciles with frightening paraphernalia, and this is all under the umbrella of a day dedicated to the things that scare us the most?"

I nodded my head as I replied, "Basically."

He admitted, "I do not understand the purpose, sir."

I explained, "Originally, it was a Pagan thing but when the Christian Church encountered the Pagans, they attempted to neutralize them. As you know, one of the most effective methods of converting a group of individuals to your beliefs is not to stamp them out violently but to take their beliefs and modify them to fit yours. Hence, November 1st became All Hallow's Day and October 31st became All Hallow's Evening. Never underestimate the laziness of human beings…All Hallow's Evening was eventually shortened to Halloween. The day was on the back burner for most of its existence until around the early to mid-1900's when the United States and its Capitalist engine realized, after a few years of underground celebrations by groups of rebellious children, that serious money could be made from the marketing of a relatively unknown date as a 'tradition'."

Alma cut in, "Or, if you want to hear it from someone who is not a complete downer, we do it because it is fun."

Snapping my head to look at her, I protested, "Hey, I am not a downer! I resent that! I am down to earth, thank you."

Looking at me, Alma sighed before she commented, "Oh please, Michael…you always have to be so uptight and factual."

I asked, "You mean I'm responsible…I deal with cause and effect…what's wrong with that?"

She groaned before she explained, "As much as I love you…you can be a buzzkill."

Childishly, I retorted, "Not uhhh…"

My companion accepted my challenge as she retorted in turn, "Yeah huhh…"

"Not uhhh…"

"Yeah huhh…"

"Not uhhh…"

"Yeah huhh…"

"Not uhhh infinity…"

"Yeah huhh I'm Alma Wade…your argument is invalid."

"No fair! You cheated!"

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

"Excuse me, sir." We both calmly returned to looking at Delta 1. He was pointing over towards the group of children that Amara had joined. As we looked, he commented, "Possible disturbance in the vicinity of the VIP, Commander."

I saw a rough-looking young boy in hand-me-down articles of clothing confronting Amara's group. The boy, a pale Caucasian boy around ten years old with brown hair and eyes, was malnourished and weathered to the point of looking homeless. I heard my soldiers drawing their weapons and I quickly motioned with my left hand for them to stand down. The rest of Dark Signal and F.E.A.R. joined us as we watched the spectacle.

Despite his thin frame, the boy demanded as he motioned threateningly with his arms, "Alright twerps, hand over your candy!" Amara stepped forward with a very calm and diffusing expression on her angelic face to stand between the bully and her new friends. Though slightly affected by her charm, the scraggly young boy mocked, "Well, well, what do we have here? Careful princess, I wouldn't want to hurt that pretty little face of yours. Hand over your candy little girl!"

Amara's peaceful demeanor never wavered as she confronted the boy. With a motherly tone, she addressed him, "Little girl? That is what he calls you is it not? Your father?"

His performance clearly derailed, the boy replied, "Wha…how do you…?"

Our daughter continued with a steady, nurturing tone, "Your father who drinks whenever he comes home from his job in construction…you're never tough enough in his eyes...are you? He reminds you every time you see him about how worthless you are. How…weak…you are. He hits you to 'make you a man'…but no matter how much you try, you just can't make him proud of you."

The boy, his tough exterior now completely breaking down as the muscles of his face were drawn tight while he fought to hide his emotions, replied, "Shut up…just shut up! Leave me alone!"

He went to leave but Amara commanded with a flat tone, "Stay." The boy obediently remained before her though now the power had drastically shifted sides as our daughter was indisputably in control of the situation. Amara's tone shifted back to gentle and paternal as she said, "Go on, it's okay...don't be ashamed to cry Alex. It takes a tough individual to restrain that hurt inside of them. Your father is weak, Alex…he hurts his own child rather than contain his own hurt. Do not be weak like him…come here…" As she finished, she raised her arms out before her on either side of her tiny frame in an inviting gesture.

The boy's true age broke through and he crumpled to the ground at her feet as he eagerly accepted her motherly embrace. It seemed unnatural how the once physically larger young boy was now completely curled up against Amara's tiny frame. The young psionic held the shaking boy as he bawled into her chest. Between sobs, he managed to ask, "Why…do…doesn't…lo…love me?"

She comforted him, "No…no…ssshhh…it's not you…it's not you."

The scene was as unnerving as it was heartwarming. Amara's ability to soothe psyches was no surprise considering that she was essentially the polar opposite of her mother. Alma's power came from negative psionic energy while Amara's came from positive psionic energy. Negative psionic energy was a powerful engine of destruction but was also the source of decay and corruption. Positive psionic energy was equally powerful in its own right and was the source of life and rejuvenation. A mutual feeling of pride flowed between my companion and I as we watched our daughter demonstrate what would hopefully be the future of our kind. How much suffering could be prevented by positive psionics like Amara? How many lives could be saved?

My com link activated as the image of Bravo Leader appeared in my HUD. He informed me, "Commander, Secondary Objectives have been taken into protective custody. Beginning exfil."

I replied, "Copy, Bravo Leader." When his image left my HUD, I spoke into my com link, "All units, Secondary Objectives are in the protective custody of Bravo Team. Begin mop-up operations."

The Replica Teams along with the members of Dark Signal and F.E.A.R. began to breakdown the command post that had been set up while the recon units from Echo Team began to make their way back to our location from the hidden firing positions that they had been occupying. I turned to Morales and ordered him, "Take point and get the convoy back to Sparta. There's something personal that I have to do and then I will be right behind you."

Though our battlefield interactions were often limited, Morales was still one of my closest friends. At a moment's notice, he would assist me with no questions asked. This time was no different as he replied, "You got it, man. See you back in Sparta." The ex-Delta Force Operative then turned and began to walk towards the Dark Signal APC as he spoke into his own com link, "Attention! Dark Signal APC is now the Convoy Lead. All units are to form up with us as we begin to exfil."

I turned my attention back to the boy that was just beginning to calm down in Amara's gentle grasp. The memories of my childhood flashed in my mind as I saw the damage done to the child's psyche in his now bloodshot eyes. I growled demonically beneath my breath as maddening rage entered my mind. A fiery aura briefly surrounded me as I manifested and then telepathically controlled a cloud of hellfire with masterful ease. My "Mr. Death" skull ski mask was replaced by my actual bare skull as my face, along with the rest of my body except for my skeleton, was reduced to ash by the hellfire that became my new body. Only my scorched Dark Signal attire and skeleton remained to indicate that I was once a human being.

Despite my radical transformation, my two closest companions on either side of me hardly even flinched. They had seen me like this enough times before for its visual impact to have been nullified. My "demonic form" was a product of my psychic energy, the stockpile of rage that had taken me a lifetime to create, my ingrained memories of the hells of war, and, of course, my current occupation.

As quickly as it had manifested, I willed it away and my regular appearance returned. I walked to stand before my daughter and the boy. While my companions were unaffected by my transformation, it had been more than enough to cause everyone else to vacate the area. Only our daughter and the boy remained. When he looked up at me, I asked, "Need a lift home?" Behind me, _Christine_ roared to life and the area was bathed in bright blue light from her supernatural headlamps.

Half an hour later, we were parked outside a rundown single story "house", if one could actually call it that, in a low income section of the town. After composing myself, I ordered everyone, "Stay here."

I began to exit the idling sentient muscle car. However, the boy stopped me by asking from the backseat, "Wait! Wha…what are you going to do to my dad?"

The boy's protection of the individual responsible for his torment only added to my resolve but I assured him, "Nothing that his actions haven't earned him." Having opened the drive side door, I turned back and looked at him as I added, "Don't worry kid, I do this for a living." I turned and exited the Fury.

As I proceeded towards the house, I saw my target's life as it played like a movie inside my mind's eye. I growled in disgust at the unashamed nature of the working-class man. Even if this not been a personal matter, this man would have definitely been worth a premature judgment. He would have definitely deserved a personal visit by either myself or my beautiful companion. Unfortunately, we were bound by rules set by beings more ancient than psionics and certain evils simply had to exist.

In our line of work as the co-rulers of the Underworld, in addition to both ensuring that the supernatural beings of our world stayed in line and looking after the souls of the deceased, we occasionally had to ensure that the fragile balance between positive and negative continued by personally enacting judgment upon those individuals, mortal or otherwise, that had crossed certain ancient and sacred lines that could never be crossed. This "balance" went beyond the morality of any religion followed by human beings and was as ancient and elemental as existence itself.

The gate of the rusted chain-link fence laid off in the center of the right portion of the dead yard. The only hint of life in the small square fields of death on either side of the concrete path to the porch were islands of weeds. However, even the notoriously hardy common yard weed was barely clinging to life in these deplored conditions. Empty, bent aluminum beer cans covered the ground around the porch.

I continued towards the porch in a cold, calculating manner. I smirked darkly as I saw a family of rats flee from their nest within the cracked walls of the building upon sensing my approaching presence. Kicking empty beer cans out of my way, I ascended the concrete steps up to the porch. Alex was a good kid. Our daughter, as the only positive psionic, was able to "pardon" those that had wrongfully been led astray from a path of balance and give them a second chance to prove their true character. However, Amara understood that some were either too far gone or were simply "destined" to be evil.

For those that could not be granted mercy or simply did not deserve it, as the expression went: there would be the Devil to pay.

I willed the flimsy front door to open and entered the house. The stench of stale alcohol filled the still air. From further into the house, I heard a man slur out in a drunken stupor, "Li…*hiccup*…little girl?" Silently, I entered the living room to find my target leaning back into the moth-eaten couch. Cliché was an understatement in regards to his appearance: stained white wife beater, dirty blue jeans, a bottle of whiskey within arm's reach on the chewed up coffee table in front of him, and a stack of pornographic magazines next to the open whiskey bottle. His skin was oily and intoxication was evident in his eyes. As I looked upon the child abuser, I suddenly saw my own father in the man's place for a brief second before the individual returned to being Alex's father.

Though I stood before the man in front of the television upon which he had an adult movie playing, it took him a few seconds to register my presence. When he finally noticed me, a combination of odd noises came from him while he attempted to get to his feet. I sent an image of some horrific composite creature that I imagined on the spot into his mind. The man cried out in primal fear as he became figuratively cemented to the couch.

My expression remained one of casual disinterest as I stood before the cowering parental failure. I mentally scoffed as I observed his behavior. Typical bully: superficial; a coward. Keeping my voice flat, I addressed the lowlife, "You should feel honored. Most don't get to see me until after they enter my care."

The man asked with a timid voice that sounded like that of a young girl, "Wh…who…?"

Disgusted by the whole situation, I interrupted, "Who I am is the wrong question. I am wearing a mask."

He replied, "I…I can see…"

I interrupted, "Of course you can. I wasn't questioning your eyesight. I was pointing out the error in asking an individual that has gone through the effort of concealing his identity what his name is. What you really want to know is what I am and why I am here."

He begged, "Look…if you are one of Johnny's boys…I already told him that I can pay him back Monday."

I informed him, "I am here on the behalf of someone else. It's funny that you should mention that though. See, I am a…debt collector…of sorts. We all have our debts…some more than others. Eventually, they all come to me to repay. Old, young, rich celebrities, and dirt poor nobodies…all of them."

The inebriated bully, his fear giving him clarity, offered, "Look, who…*hiccup*…ever I crossed…take whatever you want to settle it. It can't be that much."

I shook my head slightly before I informed him, "I have no interest in your material possessions. This debt cannot be repaid by worldly trinkets."

Confusion entered his expression as he asked, "I…I…don't…"

I interrupted as I explained, "You remember the teachings of the church, correct? Your overzealous mother forced you to go to service every Sunday until you were thirteen when you decided to punish mommy by pushing your little sister out of the second story window of her room...pity that they didn't fry you for her death when the landing broke her neck. Remember a little thing called final judgment? As the church teaches, the only thing in your possession that is of interest to me is your soul."

As I finished my last statement, I calmly willed my body to become its demonic form. The room was brightly illuminated by the crackling flames of the hellfire that caressed my scorched skeleton. The television set behind me exploded along with the other electrical devices in the room. The walls around us violently tore away to reveal the hellish landscape of the Underworld. Above the crackling sound of the hellfire that had become my flesh, the screams of the damned filled the air in a chorus of agonized torment.

As the black-cloaked demons under my command, who looked very similar to the nightmarish apparitions of my beloved wife, grabbed, clawed, and bit at the terrified man's body, he begged, "Have mercy on me!"

I replied with my deep demonic voice, "Request denied. Your soul is indebted by the pain that you have caused to innocents. You were able to elude human justice but you cannot elude mine. Now…feel their pain."

Forcing him to look into the empty voids where my eyes would be in my human form, I bombarded his psyche with all of the pain that he had caused his victims during his life. I only vaguely took note of his hitch-pitched screams of pure agony as I continued to be rather bored by the unsatisfying confrontation that I had had with him. I had been hoping for a fighter but I had only found a coward. With his soul now in perpetual torment as it was forced to relive all of its wrongdoings without reprieve, his essence was thrown into the nearest lake of fire.

With my job done, I willed myself back to the living room. I sighed quickly in disappointment before I commented aloud as if the man was still present, "Our debt is settled." Using my psionic abilities, I fixed the appliances in the room and removed any evidence that I had been there. Alex's father would just be another unknown poverty-stricken individual that no one noticed was gone. After sabotaging the hot water heater's gas line and the nearby gas furnace, I casually exited the building. My Delta Force training and experience allowed me to easily stage unfortunate accidents. Worn-out gas line hoses: such a preventable tragedy that was too often overlooked by the average homeowner. The investigation would be hasty and sloppy due to the section of the town that the property was in. That just left Alex.

Upon entering _Christine_, Alma smiled proudly at me as she silently praised my work. As terrifying as I could present myself, a visit from my wife was nothing short of one's nightmares come to life. Being the ever-nurturing person that she was, she coached me to be able to be more hellish in my visits much like she had when I was learning how to harness my psychic abilities. If the rumors were true, she possessed her own "demonic form" that was so frightening in its appearance that it was enough to drive the sanity out of all who were unfortunate enough to see it. However, I had never seen it and the thought that it was so dangerous that she dared not show it to me chilled me to my core.

In the backseat, Alex asked, "Wha…what happened?"

I assured him, "He will not hurt you again. You have my word kid." He gave me a small smile of gratitude. I smiled back slightly before I said, "Well, guess you should get inside."

As I had expected, he hesitated for a moment as he looked at Amara. This brief pause would ensure that the gas built up enough inside the house to be dangerous. I had no intention of leaving the boy behind. However, I needed him to believe in an alternate sequence of events. Amara smiled brightly at him in response. After a few seconds, he said sadly, "Yeah…I guess I should…thanks for…"

Before he could finish, the building was suddenly rocked by an explosion that was instantly followed by a firestorm that quickly spread to engulf the entire shattered structure. We were protected from the carnage by the supernatural sentient Fury. Playing innocent, I cried out, "Holy shit! Hold on!" Gunning _Christine_'s powerful engine, I quickly moved us away from the rapidly building inferno.

Minutes later, sirens could be heard from where we were in an empty lot. I asked the stunned boy, "I'm sorry, kid. Listen, do you have any relatives that can take you?" In my peripheral vision, I saw Alma raise her right eyebrow for a few seconds. Amara looked at me with an expression of guarded optimism while she held her friend close. Alex shook his head slowly as he continued to look down at his feet.

I asked him, "What would you say to a place to stay…you know…as long as you needed it?"

The young boy raised his head up and looked at me. He studied me for a moment as if he was trying to decide if I was offering him what he thought I was offering him. Amara squeezed his left hand in encouragement. I felt Alma's and Alpha 1's approval of my offer through our link as I continued to wait for his reply. Finally, he replied, "I…I would say thank you."

I nodded at him and then remarked, "Very well. Amara, I am placing him in your care." After giving the boy a crash course in the rather unorthodox nature of our family, I turned back to face forward out the windshield. I had to hand it to him, Alex was taking the evening's events rather well. I could not tell which was more taxing for him, coming to grips with the death of his father or trying to grasp Alma, me, Alpha 1, Amara, the Replica, and the other aspects of our lives that had become second nature to us. Meanwhile, Amara was overwhelmed with joy that she had a potential new playmate that was actually around her own age.

"_Still a giant teddy bear even as co-ruler of the Underworld, huh my little Michael?_"

I replied to my companion, "_I literally sent his father to Hell. Somehow, offering him a place to stay rather than kicking him to curb doesn't even come close to making things right for him in my opinion._"

She smirked as she taunted, "_Teddy bear_."

Annoyed, I retorted, "_Rapist_."

She remarked, "_Poster boy for Stockholm Syndrome._"

I growled slightly in irritation before I replied, "_-unt with a capital C._"

She purred in a carnal manner before she threatened, "_Hmm…would you like me to do the thing with my mouth where I can keep you just on the brink but not letting you release for as long as I want? What's my record again? Ah, yes, ten hours. Now that Amara has a playmate…I can have you all to myself for as long as I want._"

I shivered as I recalled when she had last used her trick. It had hurt so much that it was the most pleasurable sensation that I had ever felt. In a submissive tone, I replied, "_No…no…I'll be good._"

My wife remarked, "_That's my good little Michael. Come now, we have plans remember?_"

Remembering what we had planned to do before we had been deployed, I cranked the engine. However, since our initial deployment, I had realized that we had forgotten something during our careful planning in Sparta. We had overlooked something that would be vital during the course of the remainder of the mission. As the powerful V8 idled, I asked everyone, "Alright, who wants pizza?"

Alma and Amara both exclaimed simultaneously, "I do! I do! I do!" I smiled slightly and began to drive towards the nearest pizza chain.

* * *

><p>The screams of dying teenagers filled Wade Mansion as the masked undead killer slowly pursued them with his signature weapon in hand. We had barely put a dent in the stack of movies that had been obtained by Bravo Team. Eating slices of pizza, we watched the horror movie on the enormous wall-sized, high-definition flat screen television. As the infamous fictional killer decimated his targets, Holiday commented, "This guy is a pussy. Point Man could kick his ass."<p>

I called back, "Not as good as Alpha 1 could kick his ass with his bare hands!"

Beside me, my brother calmly remarked, "Affirmative."

I laughed and looked at him as I said, "Hell yeah, bro! What's up! Give me some!" Giving off his strange laugh of repeated grunts, Alpha 1 turned to look at me and we fist bumped.

Amara, who was sitting next to her new friend to provide a level of comfort to him as he was getting used to the admittedly creepy mansion that we called our home, commented, "No one could fight him better than Daddy!"

A brief chorus of agreeing cheers erupted out of the present soldiers. I boasted with a confident tone, "You know it! I'm Sgt. Becket: the ultimate badass!" Alma giggled in delight at my cocky tone from where she was snugged against me in her once again red-dressed adult form. After a few more cheers from the Replica soldiers in the room, we all calmed down and resumed watching the movie in silence.

Minutes later, suddenly, a loud crack of lightning rocked the air just as the doorbell rang. Before we could stop her, Amara teleported to the door to answer it, much to the shock of her new friend who had never seen someone use his or her psychic abilities to instantaneously travel to a different location before. Stokes paused the movie as we listened for an indication to "go to arms".

Seconds later, my daughter called out, "Mommy, Daddy…Death is here!"

Relieved that it was just Death, we returned to watching the movie. The pair entered the room moments later. Amara quickly rejoined the now terrified Alex who stared at the black-robed supernatural being wielding his infamous scythe with his shrouded right hand. Casually glancing at him, I said, "Hey Death. Glad you could join us, man. You didn't leave some souls stranded on the purgatorial side of the river did you?"

With his icy tone, the ancient being replied, in English due to our insistence that he stopped speaking in Latin, "They'll be fine there until morning, boss."

I smirked and then handed him his own box of pizza from the pile that we had bought on the way back to Sparta as I said, "I feel you…I feel you. I'll fudge the paperwork…you deserve a night off."

Taking the box with his skeletal left hand, Death replied, "Thanks, boss." After he found a spot to sit down and watch the movie, we returned to watching the masked undead killing machine as he continued to terrorize the movie's human characters.

* * *

><p>Hours later, when the movies and pizza had been exhausted, we all retired to our respective rooms. Death and Alex had been given their own guest rooms within the seemingly endless space of the mansion. Exhausted, I savored the closeness of my beloved companion as we lovingly held each others nude form under the covers of our bed. I had my eyes closed as I enjoyed the sensation of holding her goddess-like form.<p>

Dragging me back from the approaching cloud of slumber, Alma whispered, "That was nice of you to allow Alex to live with us." I mumbled an unintelligent response as I continued to rest against her. She continued, "I saw what his father had done…not just to his own sister and Alex…you did the right thing by prematurely exacting judgment upon him, Michael." Again, I gave an unintelligent mumble in response.

Undeterred by my lack of communication, Alma continued, "He is like you…so…maybe…we were supposed to meet him so that you could save him from what you went through." Again, I mumbled a response. She finished, "So…maybe…you could think of him as…a son?"

My eyes flew open and I replied in shock, "Geez, sweetie. I decided to give him free room and board because I'm the reason that he has nowhere else to go. How about we start with that?"

She replied, "You like him, admit it."

I whispered back, "He has my sympathy, nothing more."

She sighed before she requested, "Michael, he is just a kid…he's going to need a father figure…a real one this time. Please, for me, just try?"

I groaned and then closed my eyes before I replied, "Fine…for you."

As the embrace of sleep began to creep into my mind, my companion drew me in closer to her. I heard her whisper into my right ear, "Thank you." I mumbled in response as sleep began to overpower me. Just as I was about to slip beneath its black blanket, I heard her whisper, "Happy Halloween, Michael."

Seconds before I succumbed to my exhaustion, I replied, "Happy Halloween, Alma." Then, I slipped into the abyss of sleep in the arms of the being that was the other part of my soul.


End file.
